


Happy Fat

by FrozenLakeBeast



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, the big-boned shirt, weight gain (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:01:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22218223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenLakeBeast/pseuds/FrozenLakeBeast
Summary: China and Russia have been dating for a while. China likes to cook, Russia likes to eat. While at a meeting someone mentions that Russia has gained a lot of weight, so Russia tries to prove them wrong. (Hint: it doesn't work, he totally got fat and China loves it.)
Relationships: China/Russia (Hetalia)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	Happy Fat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Written for a Secret Santa! 
> 
> There was a piece of fanart that I saw somewhere and now can't find, with I think aph China and in the notes underneath said something like "his favorite word is X, which translates to happy fat, or weight gained when in a good relationship". And of course now I can't find the piece OR the word.

Russia had been sitting in a terribly boring meeting all day, regarding policies and trade throughout Eastern Europe. None of it pertained to Russia specifically, so he spent the meeting spinning his pen and wondering what China would be making for dinner. Finally, after far too long, the meeting ended. Russia gathered his things, then went over to talk to Lithuania. China had mentioned getting to know Russia’s friends over dinner, and of course Lithuania was a friend! With Lithuania would come Estonia and Latvia, as always, so Russia had told China to make sure there was plenty of food!

Russia squeezed past the conference table and chairs to the other side of the room where Lithuania was gathering his things. Russia waved to signal Lithuania to wait. He did, begrudgingly. Poland materialized next to him and Russia's mood darkened as he approached. 

"Lithuania," he greeted, smiling as he pointedly ignored Poland. Poland scoffed, just as thrilled to be seeing Russia.

"Hello, Russia,” said Lithuania. “Was there something you needed?”

Suddenly unsure at being confronted and nervous to be asking, Russia fiddled with his scarf. “Would you and your - friends? - like to come over for dinner? China will be cooking! He’s very good at it.”

Poland snorted. “I'll say. I think you’ve been enjoying it a little too much.”

Russia blinked and looked at Poland, a smile frozen on his face. “What?”

“Oh, you know,” Poland shrugged, “I just watched you struggle to walk between the table and the wall - which, like, isn’t even that narrow a space - and up close? You’re looking kind of fat. Fatter than normal, anyway.” He glanced to Lithuania. “Did he blow up this much when he made _you_ cook for him?”

“Po, we should go” was Lithuania’s answer. He bid Russia a polite good-bye, and dragged Poland away. Russia was left alone in the conference room.

Russia slid into his car after swiftly exiting the building. He took a moment to collect himself as he lowered the steering wheel over his stomach. He did some of the breathing exercises China had taught him to calm down, so he wouldn't get into an accident on the way home.

Poland was a _liar_. Russia hadn't gained that much weight! A little, sure, but that was what China called happy fat - weight gained when you were in a good relationship (and they were, indeed, in a _very_ good relationship). But it couldn't have been more than 15 pounds, at most! That wasn't enough for Poland to notice just by looking at him, right?

Russia decided Poland was, indeed, a liar and just trying to show off for Lithuania. Satisfied with his conclusion, he bought himself a large milkshake on the way home. He deserved a treat after all that. Russia didn’t pay attention to how his shirt pulled over his stomach, how it nearly rested against the steering wheel.

The milkshake didn’t compare to the rich and creamy ones China made on occasion, but it got the job done. When he finished it he felt better, but still a bit hungry. At least he was home now, and could have a proper snack before dinner.

Russia walked into the house and made his way towards the kitchen, like he did every time he came home. China was in there, as he usually was, sorting through the groceries he’d been out buying. Russia saw him setting some aside, presumably for the dinner they had planned.

“Yao,” Russia called.

China looked up. “Oh, Ivan! How was the meeting? What time will your friends be here?”

Russia shook his head. “I don’t think they’re coming.” He didn’t elaborate. China didn’t push. Later, he would, but now wasn’t the time. 

“That’s a shame, I would have liked to get to know them. Next time, though, right? Snack?” China held out a plate of rice crackers.

Russia grabbed one and took a bite. Having China live with him for part of the year introduced Russia to a whole new world of cuisine. China was very big on snacking, so Russia learned to share the joy. Rice cakes were one of his favorites, and he savored the sweet and salty taste.

“Do you think I’ve gained a lot of weight?” He asked conversationally, as if the topic hadn’t made him flee from a meeting. He was certain China would say _no_ , because of course he hadn’t! China wouldn’t lie like that.

But, he felt his face heat up as China looked him up and down, his gaze lingering on his stomach. Russia shoved the rest of the rice cake in his mouth and nearly _ran_ to their shared bedroom. China called after him, but Russia had a point to prove.

He tore through his drawers with a growing sense of dread, looking for a particular shirt China had given him a few years ago. They hadn’t officially started dating at the time, but had been growing closer. China gave him the shirt because he knew it was a sensitive topic for Russia, and wanted to poke some fun. Russia hadn’t quite seen the fun at the time, but he needed it now. He _needed_ it.

He finally found it, crumpled and shoved in the back corner of the bottom drawer, under carefully folded sweatpants and long underwear. Russia pulled it out and gave it a shake, looking it over. BIG-BONED was printed across the front in bold letters, impossible to miss. It looked _smaller_ than he remembered. 

No matter. Russia stripped off his sweater and undershirt, then pulled the other shirt on. And pulled, and pulled. He looked down to see why the shirt wasn’t _pulling down_ and, oh.

The shirt was all the way on, but it didn’t fit.

Russia’s first thought was that it must have shrunk when he washed it, but he hadn’t washed it since he got it, and it had fit then. The problem wasn’t the shirt, it was _him_. The shirt covered half his stomach, but the rest jutted out full and proud, hanging slightly over his pants. His sides spilled out under the shirt, and the fabric over his chest and back felt so tight that he worried any movement might cause the shirt to rip.

He stood there, silently gaping at his body that had changed so much without his notice. Why hadn’t China told him? Why had _Poland_ been the first to bring it up? 

“That still looks good on you,” said China, standing behind him. He wrapped his arms around Russia’s waist and buried his face in his back. “Even better now, actually. I’ve been feeding you well.”

Russia untangled himself from China’s grasp and turned around, blushing fiercely. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I thought you _noticed_. And I thought you liked it, you always eat so well. Always clear your plate, eat everything I put in front of you.”

“I - I was being polite.”

“Are you sure that’s _all_? ‘Polite’ doesn’t ask for fifths.”

Russia felt his ears begin to burn as well as his cheeks, and turned away from China to hide his face. He reached for his sweater, but China laid a hand on his arm. “Wait. This is a good look for you, I want to appreciate it a little longer.”

Russia looked at China like he’d lost his mind, but didn’t stop him from circling him to get a look at him from all angles. 

“Why don’t you lay on the bed?” China asked. “We can have dinner in here tonight. You’re hungry, right?”

Russia shifted his weight, hands grasped in front of him as if to cover his stomach. “Not really…” China gave him a look, and Russia changed his answer to something closer to the truth. “A - a little?”

“Good, I’ll get dinner, you lay on the bed. Just because your friends aren’t coming doesn’t mean I didn’t cook for them. We’ll have plenty of fun without them.”


End file.
